Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Kinky Kiss and Tell - Maia from As She's Told, by Anneke Jacob

Today we are interviewing Maia, who fell into the public eye when Anneke Jacob wrote a book called As She's Told about the rather extreme master/slave relationship she has with a man called Anders Thygesen. We caught up with Maia -- with Anders' permission -- on her streetcar ride home from work.

A personal interview? With me? I don’t know. I’m not – um -- particularly extroverted, and personal questions are something I usually avoid like the plague. But okay, bring it on. I’ll do my best.

What's your favorite thing about Anders?

One favourite? Well, damn, do I have to pick only one? Physically, you mean?

Whatever you like.

The way he uses his hands. That gorgeous neck and long back. Something about his hard, ropy forearms. His face, the way it changes. The evil twinkle in his eye.

And if we’re talking personality, there’s all that intensity, but there’s also balance. I don’t know how he does that, but he does. He’s never taken himself all that seriously.

What does Anders do that is most annoying?

He teases me to the point of insanity, leaves me hanging and then sings. How would you feel?

Describe your favourite pair of shoes.

Birkenstocks.

What do you most fear?

Environmental catastrophe. Corporations squeezing the world for profit until it’s wrung out. People who value money and self-interest over everything else. I can’t think of a better definition of evil. And that’s who’s calling the shots. It’s pretty scary.

Oh, you mean personally? Something happening to Anders, obviously.

If you could be in a book, which book would it be?

Hmm. Jane Eyre comes to mind for some reason, though I’m not sure why. Maybe that we’re both little and say “sir” a lot. I think I’d like to hang out on that pilgrimage to Canterbury.

What tale would yours be?

Oh, I wouldn’t have a tale of my own. I could write down other people’s. The Scribe’s Tale, in fact. And some big doughty fair-haired squire could scourge the scribe’s tail at the inn at night. Okay, forget I said that.

Your life at the farm has shocked some people. They describe you as having been extinguished as a person. Do you think that’s true?

I’ll try not to think about anyone knowing about that. Anyone who wasn’t there.

Extinguished? No, not at all. I can see how people might think so. We’re pretty extreme, and what happens at the farm is at the far edge, even for us. And I admit that I sink into it. But everything I am is still there, ready to pop back up again when Anders wants it.

Maybe people would like it better if I fought it, tried to insist on my human rights and dignity? Or maybe they want Anders to act like a little gentleman instead of the deeply twisted, loving sadist that he is? Probably. And that’s their right. But they may want to distinguish between appearances and reality. Anders has no interest in extinguishing me as a person. He likes me as I am.

For excerpts from Anneke Jacob's books, reviews, readers' comments and more, see her website.